The San Mateo

Lately I have made tons of progress on the boat model that Marigold gave me for our anniversary last year. It got put aside for a while, for reasons unknown. Planking the hull turned out to be huge pain in the ass. I have a new found respect for all those people that made those on real boats. Steaming and bending a plank the size of a tree must have been a huge task. It would have pissed me off as a boat builder to see any of these things actually shoot at each other and burn as they sink. Mine, although less than three feet tall/long, will be firmly protected behind a glass case once finished.

The Pazzi Plot

I just learned today about The Pazzi Plot. This is a key event in Florentine and Papal history. Don’t you just love the word ‘papal’? I do. Pope Sixtus IV is the pope in question and the year was the fateful year of our Lord, 1478 (Leonardo DaVinci’s time). Some of these jokers thought that they had enough of the Medici’s running Florence, so decided to kill them during the most sacred part of the most sacred mass: The blessing of the host, Easter Mass (The POPE is a main partner behind this, remember). When the holy bells rang two priests tried to stab Lorenzo De Medici. They got a scratch in before he could escape to the sacristy. Unfortunately, his brother is brutally murdered right there in church. The Pazzi family guy, and the archbishop (a nephew of Pope Sixtus) go parading through the streets declaring “Freedom!” braveheart style, assuming they were successful. Soldiers loyal to the Medici’s let them into the Medici Palace as if they were conquerors. And then they locked the doors from the outside, and slaughtered the bastards. So the Medici’s political power was not harmed, and perhaps even hightened, and lots of people died to keep it that way. I love it! There is something about showing what bad, evil people those damned Popes (and other Christians and/or Catholics) were that really gets me going. There is actually a term for them: “Renaissance Popes.” It makes me wonder if all that assuredly unholy activity is truly over and done with. How will the new Pope be chosen when the current one kicks the bucket? The process will not be wholly Holy, I can tell you that.

Next Comic Idol

I am a sucker for the reality television. I hate it, but it is television. What do you expect? Any sort of quality on network television should be treated with awe and reverence. And even then, does it improve your life at all? Don't worry about that right now. What I am here to talk about is Last Comic Standing and Next Action Star, both on NBC. Back to back, these are superb examples of what reality television should be (Last Comic Standing), and what is really terrible, awful, bad, bad, bad (that other show). The comics are catty and terrible or saintly (but never real) people in front of the cameras, just like they are supposed to be. But the key is: they can’t vote each other out! We can’t vote them out! They truly have to be funny to make it the whole way. Sure, as the show goes on certain comics will get a following that will go to the voting stand up shows and vote as their heart tells them, not their gut. But that is much less of an issue than on say, American Idol, where retards get through because, “OMG, he’s soo cute, he signs like crap, AND Simon hates him!” Also the comics are the type that, because of their awareness of comedy, are much more interesting people than the usual crop of yahoos. Speaking of idiots, you can get plenty of them on Next Action Star. These are the same a-holes that fill out the cast of other reality shows. They are done up with muscles and make-up to be television beautiful, and don’t have a lick of interesting in them. These bimbos bounce about the new friends they’ve made as they sharpen the knives for their backs. And the producers love their stupid predictability. They could offer these people nothing but the airtime and they would all act the same: like novice politicians with no subtlety and ready to kill. It’s about as much fun as watching Barbie dolls practice group suicide over and over. Which, apparently, actually is fun. Millions of Bachelor/Big Brother/Survivor/Littlest Groom/Forever Eden/etc./etc. fans can’t be wrong.

Dear Prof. FishHook

Q: Dear professor FishHook,
Why do the kitties go silly at the catnip? - Twitchy

A: Dear Twitchy,
You sit too much. We've all heard about those people that die when they get off their international flights. Take a page out my book: Don't be like them, but at home. That's just too sad. What whould the CSI guys think after 43 minutes of investigory drama? I'll venture a guess, "I'm so. so good. good looking. Too good looking, my friend." Don't be like them. Also, don't be like O.J.
Lovingly,
Professor FishHook

Hot Shit

Maybe I shouldn't think of myself as such hot shit.

Brass Thumbtacks part 3

As far as hobbies go, Lacy picked a lonely one. Grounding sausage generally made other people cringe, and so she kept it too herself. If she hadn’t, if she had spread her talent like butter over the land, she would probably be a rich sausage tycoon by the time she was thirty-four. Her sausage was that good. Her secrecy could probably be categorized as part of the top twenty-five greatest tragedies in Mid-western American history. She had a boyfriend, once, whom she felt might find her charms adequate enough to overcome the sausage hurdle that had so plagued her previous romances. He held on for five weeks after being let in on the secret, and that was only for the Kielbasa. But Kielbasa alone, even killer Kielbasa, is not reason enough string a person’s insides out.

Classes

Classes started yesterday and I am both intimidated and excited. I really hope to kick ass in my new student career, so I can't screw around. Even so, it looks like I will be able to put into this quarter a minimum and still get by fine. I want to put more than that into it though. There is no reason why the work from this quarter (all undergrad classes) shouldn't be good fodder for any future portfolio. Also, everybody will love me more if I rock. Lifedrawing will probably be repeatative conceptualy, but I am still really looking forward all the naked drawing. I like the older ladies the best.

By the way, Elimidate is a terrible show. Even worse than Becker.

Kill, Then Ask Questions

So We learned something about spiders in the past few weeks here in Savannah. We had to kill, and then have nightmares about it first, but now we are more knowledgeable people. And less moral. We killed a whole family of big and ugly, but none the less friendly Huntsman spiders. I hope it was the whole family. First the male, then about two weeks later (last night) the female, and she was carrying her freaking eggsack! The little suckers were crawling out as she darted in front of me. These monsters (2cm bodies, 10cm leg diameter, 3cm eggsack with 200 babies) eat cockroaches and other small vermin that might want to live in your house, so we really shouldn't have killed them. But this is our home! We sleep here! We carouse around naked for god's sake! After a little research, they were probably here first (they live up to five years), so this was really their home. But this is how I feel about that: Manifest Destiny, a-holes.

Slap Me Silly

Yesterday was the orientation day for SCAD and it got me very excited about starting classes tomorrow. Everyone is so friendly and supportive I can't believe it. I almost expected the professors to be too busy to really care that much. Two of the professors talked to me for about twenty minutes about the school, classes, industry, and most importantly me. I joke, but it almost seemed that way, the way they seemed to take so much interest. They also have such great student services on campus that I am itching to take advantage of, like the job magnet. Then we went to a Christopher Durang play put on by students, Baby With The Bathwater. It was very funny and nobody sucked. A little too much shouting, but much better than Riddick (which I haven't seen).

Brass Thumbtacks part 2

Later while washing off the smell of steak in her bathtub/shower, Lacy thought about when she was a kid and traveled with her family to Florida. That was a far as she ever got. As a child she didn’t like being away from home, in the pouring sun. Now the garish colors come to her in daydreams, like some sort of eye disease, exotic and fleeting. And when they faded this time, all she had to see was mildew tiles and tired skin.

Why isn't Cuba in the Axis of Evil?

For that matter, why isn't Wilson Phillips?

New Kitty

We just brought home Babs from the Humane Society. We were very excited and nervous about how Lolita would like this new kitty pal of hers. Frankly, we were expecting a few fireworks. More than just quiet hissing and looking at each other at four feet. Babs isn't even interested in exploring the rest of the house. They just sit there regarding each other, almost ignoring each other at a close proximity. They are both not dominant enough to do anything, so they are just waiting. I'm hoping for some sort of show before the night is through. At least some thing to put some money on. And then we can move on to becoming best buddies ever.

Brass Thumbtacks part 1

Lacy never knew why people called her Brass Thumbtacks. She has her guesses, her intuition, but no one had ever had the kindness to spell it out for her. Since it wasn’t an inherently bad nickname she didn’t usually protest it. “Hey, Brass Tax! Table five is ready.” They might say. And she would think, “Lacy is nice name. A pretty name.” As she approached the couple at table five with pen, pad and smile ready. “Hi, I’m Brass Thumbtacks and I’ll be your server this evening! Is there anything I can start you off with?”

Ah . . . Friends

It's good when old friends come a-visiting. It make me less apt to lay in bed and cry. I specifically speak of Mike Dronkers and his lovely wife Sara. They are friends from back in the silly college days at Humboldt State University. I had done the too often calamity of falling out of touch with them. Well, after a walk by the river, a few drinks and a meal, and most importantly, The Chuck, we were now new, old friends again. Like book ends, we are. Now I gotta go. Rocky is on TV.

Sleep

Last night Marigold and I stayed up until two in the morning watching the discovery health channel. Who could resist the shows about giantism and siamese twins? Also, who wants to sleep when there is nothing to do and no place to go in the morning? Ethan Lipton really has something with his "Places To Go" song. ("It's not the glamorous life of a pirate, I know. But at least I've got a place to go in the morning.") This life of no schedule and no friends is really turning us into night owls who struggle to get up at eleven in the morning.

Therefore, this morning I forced myself to get up at the crack of eight. This is amazing to me in two ways: 1) I'm still half asleep and 2) this used to be sleeping in for me. I used to get up at six thirty every morning for over two years less than a month ago. I didn't NEED ten or eleven hours of sleep every day.

I can't wait for school to start next week. It's not the glamorous life of a pirate, but it's close.

Formerly Fuck

Through my insatiable desire for more and more music I went to the Future Farmer website. This is the home of several artists that are near to my heart, namely M. Ward. After exhausting my initial interest in the site I was curious to see what the hubbub was about the band Fuck. The sample song that they had posted was intriguing enough, so I decided to look further into what they were about. Well, I'm smart enough to know not to google Fuck. So I tried Amazon. No luck. No Fuck. Well maybe, but I wasn't willing to sift through all the angry punks posting their anti-The-Man Lists. Then I tried CDBaby. Still no luck. Anyway, I lose patience with the internet pretty quick when it doesn't put out, so I gave up after a few more halfhearted attempts. Who the fuck names there band Fuck? It's like they are trying to fail. I'd say that is about as puck rock as you can get as a band. It's not even clever (fuct, fcuk, etc.) or veiled in anyway (Fugazi) so as to fly over the heads of WalMart morality police. Assholes like Eddie Vedder, Thom Yorke and the like can take a lesson from these guys in anti-commercialitude.

Then I decided, "What the fuck? I'll google Fuck" Well the band was number three on the list! (If you are reading this, click on the number two site.) So I guess that Fuck isn't such a bad name after all. But why not change the name? It's never too late to change your band name, especially if your not front page anyway. Take a lesson from Prince: call your self Formerly Fuck.